So LS (AKA LITTLE SH&*), has to eat, have her blood taken, and get her shot, I needed to do her blood as I could not get any last night

This morning (7.30) my roomie kept LS in her room so she would eat, now bare in mind my roomie is in the room with LS, big foot and buddy, so she puts the food out, LS is hiding under the bed (as per the norm) BF and Buddy are snoozing on the bed with my roomie who is now laying down on the bed in the hope that LS will come out and eat. By 9am she THINKS LS has eaten so she comes down, LS would normally follow her but today NOOOOOO. 9.30 still no LS, so upstairs I go, LS is under my roomies king size bed... in the freakin middle.... no way can I reach her, and no matter how much I sweet talk her she is having none of it.

So my last resort is crawl under the bed, now, I am by no stretch of the imagination a small woman, so crawling under a bed to wrangle a cat is no easy task. I get to my hands and knees, lay flat on the floor and slow and steady wriggle my way under the bed... just as i am about to lay hands on my target she shoots out through a 2 inch gap that i never even saw i try to get out from under the bed. errrrrrr the bed is coming with me.... I officially have a bed stuck to my back... I expel all the air from my lungs and try again... nope I still have a bed stuck to my back... I start moving my way around again like a hermit crab trying to discard it's shell, at one point banging the bed into the wall, while doing this I spy LS sitting on top of the wardrobe... eyes wide mocking me with a "that'll teach ya" look on her face , By this time I am considering a do it your self boob job, because those damn things are really getting in the way, (if your a guy you will have no understanding of how painful squished boobs can be), my roomie, who was by now downstairs hears the commotion and comes to see "why I am KILLING her poor cat" after seeing my dilemma, when she finally manages to stop laughing enough to be able to stand upright, she lifts the bed so I can get out. at this point LS is still on the wardrobe top, I am 5'3" the wardrobe stands 8' high, I get the steps and get up top to grab her, my roomie is still laughing, I get 2 fingers on the darn cat and she takes a flying leap off the wardrobe into the arms of my roomie, where she starts to purr, thinking all is well with the world.

Well puddy tat you don't get away with it that easy....

My roomie brings her downstairs and sweet talks her, I take her from my roomie blood meter in lancet in hand, and put her on the table, by this time LS is convinced I am going to kill her, so she is'nt exactly frozen with fear. I put the strip in the meter, and aim the lancet for the thin vein in the ear ...... yup, you guessed it ....... she moved ...... I spiked my finger, and am happy to report MY BLOOD SUGAR IS 84, I gave her her shot, stuck my finger under the tap, and I will try again later.

Isnt it great living with a diabetic? Diabetes runs in my family and my dad has to take insulin twice a day. He has to test his blood sugar 3 times a day. Once he got the bright idea to test mine. I was around 9. I screamed while he pinned me down and poked my finger. I dont care what anyone says. That thing hurts. lol